Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing John Coltrane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Enemy,
Rhythm & Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
Roxette,
Ohio Players,
Gregory Isaacs,
Little Man,
Drexciya,
K-Klass,
Saccharine Trust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Make Up,
Section 25,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Teasers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ituana,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Alison Limerick,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mandrill,
Funky Four + One,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crime,
Joy Division,
Gabor Szabo,
Stetsasonic,
Basic Channel,
The Leaves,
X-102,
Sparks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Green,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
AZ,
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Icehouse,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pussy Galore,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blake Baxter,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.